


A Rare Occurence

by bitchinlesbian



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cheating, Comforting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, LONDON!, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Whiskey & Scotch, but theres alcohol, enjoy the smut my lovlies, i dont know how i feel about this, loki is a perfect gentleman, slight tipsiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchinlesbian/pseuds/bitchinlesbian
Summary: His touch is unlike anything I've ever know. It's agonising, tantalising, addictive. I've never known anything quite like this, and I am begging him in my mind to never let me go, even if he is a complete stranger.A stranger I have an undeniable connection with.----------Our heroine for this time is having a hard time after finding out she's been cheated on, and it seems meeting a handsome gentleman who will let her vent is the solution. But the real question is who's bed she's going to wake up in the next day.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 24





	A Rare Occurence

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am back with more smut and fluff because I love all of you and you deserve to be treated, even if it is Character x OC this time :/  
> Maybe one day I'll write Character x Reader, so if you're interested, dm me on Instagram @/lokibarncs :)
> 
> Dedicated to the wonderful #REALsmutsluts group members <33

I’m very rarely speechless.

I suppose light-headedness will do that to you, but maybe it’s more so the fact that I can’t focus on anything else but the brown liquid I’m swirling in my whiskey glass. I don’t think many of us would be able to speak after we’ve found out we’ve been cheated on, so all we can do is mull over it.

The ice clinks at the crystal, melting into the Irish whiskey. It’s a shame to ruin the taste with water, but I’m too lost in thought to care as I down the rest of it. I place it on the bar, but when the bartender asks me if I want another one, I refuse, knowing I’ve already had more than I promised I would. I might be a little bit broken, but I’ve got to keep myself in check.

I pay what I need to pay, and I stand up, a little rocky from the alcohol. Once I get home and have a nice cold shower, I’ll be okay, and then maybe I’ll be intoxicated enough to sleep better. I’ll deal with everything I need to deal with tomorrow, but for now, the only thing I need to do is get home, so bumping straight into someone isn’t in my plans for sure.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. You’ll have to excuse me, I’ve had too much tonight,” I say, placing my hand on his arm for steadiness and look him in the eyes.

Green stones look back at me, more blank than I expect. I can feel an electric current running where I’m touching him, and I already know my cheeks are heating up with embarrassment. I let him go and brush myself off, managing a weak smile in apology.

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you?”

I wave him off, smiling and seconds away from crying. “No, um, I just need to get home. Take a taxi to Islington and I’ll be fine.” My eyes open as I realise what I’ve said. “Right, and now I’ve told a stranger where I live. I need to leave before I tell the whole bar my passport number.”

“You look upset. Would you like to talk first, let the alcohol drain away slightly so no one can take advantage of it?” He looks so honest, so safe, that I find myself considering his offer.

“Is that not what you’re doing right now? For all I know you’re a pervert with a thing for drunk women.” That’s not what I think at all, but I’m too drunk to even comprehend what I’m saying. I feel awful for having said it, and I can only hope he can see that on my face while I a hiccup.

He smiles, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth. “There’s a booth to my left, in view of most of the people in this bar. If I do anything to make you uncomfortable, you’ll be able to signal that to anyone. It’s up to you whether or not you trust me,” he assures.

I nod, and we walk over to the booth, the both of us sliding on opposite sides. I fiddle with the skin on my nails, a nervous trait of mine, my mind completely empty. Before I even realise, he’s slid out of the booth, and there’s a glass of water in front of me, his eyes telling me to drink. So, I do, letting the cold water slip down my throat so I can finally clear my head.

“Bad breakup,” I say, not a moment’s hesitation. “I found out he was cheating on me for weeks now, and I just lost it. I’d just finished work and he told me in front of all my colleagues that we were done. I’ve never felt more mortified.” I can feel the tears slipping down my cheeks, a smile slapped on my face to hide anything else I’m feeling.

I’ve wasted no time in telling this stranger every humiliating detail of what the past three to four hours have been like for me, if only because his presence is so magically comfortable. I suppose that’s why I don’t mind when he slides closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder to let me know that he’s here for me, even if he’s only known me for a few minutes.

“It seems he didn’t deserve you anyway. You seem like too gentle a woman to be treated so harshly.” His raw honesty is almost unbearable, and I can’t bring myself to look into those emerald eyes again in fear of melting under his gaze. “It is a shame to see such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in such a state. I do hope this one event isn’t enough to bring you down.”

I can’t avoid his gaze any longer. “Thank you for letting me vent. I know this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your evening. Sorry for mucking things up.”

“It’s alright. Sometimes helping someone is more important than drinking too much and throwing up a couple of hours later,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I can feel the current again, stronger than it was before, and I know I’ve melted, and nothing in the world can bring me back to a solid state. It seems crazy to want someone I’ve just met, but the way his fingers linger on my neck is so sinful the craziness is disregarded.

His thumb moves to touch the bottom lip of my parted mouth, and I feel my chest fall as I exhale slowly, his finger hooked under my chin to ease me forward. It’s hesitant, his breath against my own, our lips just millimetres apart. My mind is less fuzzy than it was, albeit not being able to give me the ability to speak, so I use it for better things, leaning in all the way.

What I taste is peppermint and rainwater and the crispness of cold air, everything deeply exhilarating. My hand is on his chest, his heart beating in such a wonderful melody I dare not take my hand away. His own hand is placed perfectly on my knee, but I move it up, letting him know that I’m aware of what’s happening, and it is not something I want to stop. I might be drunk, but I’m also in clear control of my actions.

He pulls away and I have to stop myself from whining. I know he’s trying to be a gentleman, but somehow a gentleman is the last thing I need right now. I swallow my inhibitions and, in an attempt to break the ice, I say, “You’re a good kisser. I assume you have a lot of experience.”

“Experience isn’t everything. A clear mind is,” he says, eyes glittering again. They’re mesmerising to look at, something so mischievous hidden behind them that I have a desperate need to find out what that mischievous thing is.

“The water helped a lot, if you’re wondering. But that kiss…” I trail off, just the thought of it getting me surprisingly hot and bothered. “That woke me up more than I expected. I really don’t think I’ve been this awake in my entire life.”

“Why don’t you stay at my house tonight? Islington is quite a ways from here, and I would prefer it if I knew nothing happened to you. I’m afraid cab drivers at this time of night aren’t always the friendliest.” He takes my hand and helps me stand up, which is nice of him considering I’m still a little wobbly on my feet.

The air outside is colder than I expected, and I’m shivering straight away, the thin jacket I wore this morning doing little to keep me warm. If he gives me his, I think I’m going to lose it, because that would just be too perfect. I feel the extra material on my shoulders and that’s when I stop, examining him in the moonlight.

His hair is luscious and full of loose curls, black and falling just past his shoulders. Wrinkle-free pale skin stares back at me, something so fascinating about the way he intently looks at me. My fingers drift to his cheeks, stroking gently. There’s something magical about the way he looks like a Roman statue, so perfectly poised all the time.

“Why are you helping me? I’m just a drunk stranger trying to hold herself together after being cheated on, and here you are, a knight in shining armour, rescuing me from drowning!” I know full well I’m making a scene, tears cascading down my cheeks and voice breaking with every word I say, but I just don’t understand why he’s being so nice. “I get that you’re obviously very British and you’re just being kind, but you have absolutely no obligation to do it, so why-”

I can’t find any words to continue, but when someone has their lips pressed against yours, their hands tightly gripping your hair, there really isn’t much to say. Everything about his touch makes me rigid but malleable at the same time, like I’m made of a material only he knows how to work. I just wish I knew why I feel such a connection to a man I barely know.

“Because I find you irresistible,” he murmurs. “It’s maddening to me, not knowing why I feel such a connection to a woman I barely know, but I can’t deny it. There’s just something about you,…”

“Eris,” I swallow.

His eyes light up with new mischief. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks again. “Goddess of Strife and Discord. Of course, how could I have not known? I’m Loki.”

“God of Mischief and Chaos.” It seems so obvious, so undeniable, that I regret not having gotten his name sooner. The resemblance is too striking to move past, and I can feel my heart ready to beat out of my chest, the man in front of me my own counterpart. My long dark hair is whipped around by the wind behind my head, the air around us full of new wonder.

He has no use for time any longer, pulling me along with him down the street, the both of us running to a place I have never been to before. We move at a pace so fast everything seems like a blur, but no sooner than I’ve managed to figure out we’re walking through a door than he has his hands on my hips and is pushing me against the front door, trapping me in his arms.

His thigh comes between my legs and his fingers tickle my sides under my shirt, something so captivating about his touch. I’m completely at his mercy, no longer sure of what is really happening apart from the spring tightening in my lower stomach. All I can do is hope that nothing disturbs us from the peace we’re bringing each other, something incredibly ironic considering who we are.

The longer he teases me, the more restless I become, and without letting him adjust, I pull his jumper over his head, pushing both coats off my shoulders soon after. I’m not going to let him dictate the entire evening despite how intense it would be to let him have control, because there are some things I need to make sure happen.

I wrap my legs around his waist, arms locked behind his neck. “Bed. Now.”

My mouth is on his once more as he expertly moves up the stairs, walking carefully so that neither of us falls either backwards or forwards. My nails dig into his back, aching to touch him everywhere, and his own hands grip my thighs in a way that makes me weak at the knees. When he pushes us through another door, I drop down to the floor and push him back onto the bed, unhurriedly climbing on top of him so he lies down before I get up once more.

I pick my shirt up by the corners and ever so slowly lift it over my head, throwing it somewhere behind me. Standing between his legs, I unhook my bra, unashamed of my body with him. His hands reach out to touch, but I stop him, turning around. I bend forward and inch by inch pull my trousers down. I can just make out his ragged breathing, the sound like music to my ears.

I turn around once more, eyes gentle and innocent. I back away, suddenly in the mood for games, and when he stands up, I smile, a large tent visible in his trousers. He’s unashamed too, and he catches me before I can even make it out of the room, hands running up and down my legs possessively.

I want him and he wants me, a secret neither one of us dare hold onto. With great care, he walks us back towards the bed. I tug down sharply on his trousers, letting him know they need to be gone in the next few seconds, but he just chuckles in my ear. “Patience. All in good time, Princess.”

Something about that nickname sends a shiver down my spine. It’s so simple but effective, and I have never had any idea as to why. Everything about him makes me dissolve, his touch is addictive, every gentle caress making me beg for more. I feel safe in his arms, knowing he’ll take care of me as best he can, and he proves that when he leaves a trail of kisses from my neck to my navel, removing my underwear not as quickly as I’d like.

He hovers above me, hair tickling my forehead. He looks like the pure image of beauty, as though he’s come straight out of a painting. He smiles at me and I grin back giddily at him, the alcohol still buzzing in my veins, making this experience something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

The next kiss is fierce, every cell in my body waking up and telling me to never let go of this man. I hold onto his shoulder blades and with both of us looking deeply into each other’s eyes, he pushes into me ever so gently, and I feel my throat go dry with desire.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice so soothing I can’t help but believe him. He picks up a forceful pace, his pelvis tilting in a way so that we can both experience the greatest amount of pleasure possible, and my nails dig into his back, needing to find a way to stabilise myself.

Our bodies move together fluidly, every movement planned out in advance without knowing it’s been planned out, like destiny is pulling the strings. His hands are no doubt bruising my skin, but I can’t think about that, every thrust sending me closer to the edge with a new wave of pleasure. Every possible sound that can come out of my mouth escapes me, no longer expertly contained.

His mouth is on my neck, the soft and manipulative skin relinquished to him, his pace brutal. There’s something animalistic about the way we’ve given in to each other, our minds separate from what we’re doing. It’s perfect in every way, a lapse in judgement I’ll cherish my entire life.

We make eye contact once more, my gut tightening, and I kiss him hard just when everything inside me and him snaps. He holds onto me, helping me ride out the high so that nothing goes wrong in the last few precious moments. I think I mumble some incoherent syllables, which earns me his laughter.

I feel him pull the duvet over both of us, and while he chooses to lay his head on a pillow, his shoulder is my choice. I feel exhausted, this having been the most exercise I’ve had in weeks. He strokes my hair, my breathing slowly steadying itself.

“So much for the whole ‘not taking advantage of a drunk woman’, huh?” I look into those emerald orbs one more time, orbs that are examining my every move. I giggle. “What?”

“I’m just thankful you agreed to do this with me. I also hope I haven’t crossed any lines,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I’m in awe that he thinks he’s done something he shouldn’t have, and I can’t stop the worry from appearing on my face.

“Everything we’ve done tonight has been consensual,” I assure him. “I may have been tipsy at the beginning of the night, but I agreed to things because I knew what I was agreeing to. You did nothing wrong.”

His thumb runs across my forehead. “You’ll get worry lines on that pretty face of yours if you don’t relax a little. I know you’ve been in control, but I just wanted to make sure. Don’t worry about it.”

He kisses me again, and I smile against it, a warm feeling spreading throughout my body. I place my hand on his cheek, wanting to be as close to him as possible, and his own hand rests against my lower back. If he pulls away, I think I’ll really whine properly this time, because I can’t let this night end, not when it’s so perfect that I can’t find anything to say.

And I’m very rarely speechless.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments! I'm always looking to improve my writing, so any criticism, positive or negative, is welcome :)


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